Nymph Of Niagra Poem by Samuel Lover

Written On Lake Ontario, Immediately After Leaving The Falls


Nymph of Niagara! Sprite of the mist!
With a wild magic my brow thou hast kiss'd;
I am thy slave, and my mistress art thou,
For thy wild kiss of magic is yet on my brow.


I feel it, as first when I knelt before thee,
With thy emerald robe flowing brightly and free,
Fringed with the spray-pearls, and floating in mist-
Thus 'twas my brow with wild magic you kiss'd.


Thine am I still;-and I'll never forget
The moment the spell on my spirit was set;-
Thy chain but a foam-wreath-yet stronger by far
Than the manacle, steel-wrought, for captive of war;


For the steel it will rust, and the war will be o'er,
And the manacled captive be free as before;
While the foam-wreath will bind me for ever to thee!-
I love the enslavement-and would not be free!


Nymph of Niagara, play with the breeze,
Sport with the fawns 'mid the old forest trees;
Blush into rainbows at kiss of the sun,
From the gleam of his dawn till his bright course be run;


I'll not be jealous-for pure is thy sporting,
Heaven-born is all that around thee is courting-
Still will I love thee, sweet Sprite of the mist,
As first when my brow with wild magic you kiss'd!